“I own an Omega wristwatch which I bought nine years ago at Heathrow Airport and which has since then produced for me, with reasonable fidelity to nature, about 700 million ticks and tocks. Almost every day, winding it, I am reminded that another day has run out, that I am one day farther down the line. Sometimes I glance too at the hand and wrist beneath the watch, which, with their growing assortment of scars, lines and shadows, are also accurate time-keepers, suggesting not daily minutiae but rather my definite position between the entrance and exit of life. Locating myself in the larger picture, I momentarily leave the thicket of daily concerns and sense a more urgent pulse (days ticking like seconds, ages passing like hours) which animates my life. If some eccentric had his watch dismantled and a tiny death’s head etched upon the face, I would understand and sympathize.”

I’ve had this book on my reading pile for a while now. It’s one of those you dip into on occasion rather than attempting to digest in a single setting. Today, a Sunday afternoon sipping mint tea in a tea room in Covent Garden, I’ve managed to make a (lamentably rare) stretch of time for reading and reflection. Grudin’s work is not only a welcome text to return to, but perhaps the most appropriate palate cleanser before attempting anything else.

Friday evening. I’m actually feeling a little human for the first time in a long time, like there’s been a break on the perennial cloud cover that’s been hanging over my head and obscuring my vision. [Can we pull back on the melodrama just a touch…? -Ed.]

Okay. Friday evening, and I’m inspired. Haven’t been thinking “ideas” for a while, more like “if I can just make it through until…” And then I see something like this Protein video feature on NTS Radio, and the sparks start flying again. I’ve got a while yet before I throw myself back into anything new, but soon, dagnamit. Soon…